Chapter 9:

They don't speak a single word. Blaine lets him inside and closes the door, locking out the cold and the danger. He's paler somehow and his eyes are bright, but empty. His skin is scratched. Thin, spiderweb-frail vines cover his chest right where his heart rests beneath. They're candy red, like a blood bath. He's thinner now, too. Blaine can count his ribs. Tiny crescent tears rest in the hollows beneath his eyes and they begin to glide, frozen and glassy down his prominent cheek bones.

Blaine can't stop looking. There's a shake to his body and a shiver in his breath.

He feels the anger then, the rage blooming from rejection, fear and months of not knowing. He turns around and makes his way up the stairs. Kurt follows because it's all he's ever wanted to do.

Like the first time, Blaine runs the shower. Kurt sits and lets the water run. He stares down at his body, watching as the water grows darker, the skin paler—impossibly so. Blaine watches, arms folded. The clouds roll slowly by outside, like they're watching and waiting, too. Kurt closes his eyes and runs his thin fingers through his branch hair. He is a picture an artist would want to paint. He's the words a writer would want to write. He's the poem a poet could make dance on paper.

The clouds are still waiting.

The water runs to a halt.

Kurt looks up through the canopy of his lashes, water clinging, hanging on. Finally, he speaks.

"Run away from the lighthouse. There's no safety there now."

And then he screams.

Blaine watches as he claims his space beneath the blankets on his bed. He hasn't stopped shivering. His teeth are chattering in a reckless rhythm and his eyes are wide and wondering. Blaine stays against the window just watching until a pale arm raises and begs for him to come closer. He does because he can't say no, no matter how cheated he feels. He was cut from his life, but he wants him now and somehow, that's almost enough.

He cannot get the sound from his mind, the shrillness and the terror of his scream in the echoing bathroom. The walls are far too thin and he knows his neighbours must think there is torture being carried out behind closed doors. Still, outside remains still. No one hears and if they do, they don't care.

Once Blaine reaches the bed, Kurt pulls back the covers and moves over, making room for him. Blaine stares into some unknown abyss of invisibility, as if seeking advice. None is given, so he lies down and allows Kurt to bundle them up in the bed. Kurt only stares into his eyes and he cannot help but stare back. A thousand questions scream in his mind:

WHERE WERE YOU?

WHY DID YOU GO?

WHAT MADE YOU COME BACK?

HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?

All he does is stare back.

They stare for a thousand years, unblinking and broken and then, when the air is full with their silent words, Kurt lets his tears fall. They dance down his cheeks and fill his eyes and he pushes forward in a single surge and curls his fingers in Blaine's shirt.

"Please," he begs in a hushed tone. "I need you to touch me."

Blaine doesn't know what he means by that, but Kurt shows him. He takes Blaine's hand and presses it to his heart and Blaine feels the same connection he's felt for always. Kurt squeezes his hand as if asking him to keep it there. Blaine does.

Kurt uses his own hands to undress Blaine. Blaine helps by kicking and shrugging until he's left just in his underwear. Somehow, that seems acceptable, like any more would be too overwhelming too soon.

When Kurt pushes himself against Blaine and he feels the beat of his heart against his own chest, Blaine starts to cry, too. So they cry and they cling and finally, they sleep and it's peaceful and right.

They fail to wake some hours later when Mrs Anderson pops her head in to check on her son. She closes the door and lets herself breathe.

When Blaine opens his eyes to the chill of the day, Kurt is still shivering in his embrace. He slides out from his clutches and finds an extra blanket, then goes back and climbs inside. Kurt stirs and for an instant, he's sad-looking, but then he smiles. Blaine feels the thrill inside again and he knows there's a lot to say, but for now, he just lets himself smile back. They fall back to slumber.

The clouds are resting, but not quite gone.

When he wakes again as the clock strikes ten, he's alone. He feels it again, building inside and it creeps and slides up his back and inside his lungs. He stands quickly and he's met by the cold, but he stays standing. He looks around for a sign that he was there, but there isn't one. All he has is the memory and sometimes, he's not even sure that's enough.

He goes to the window and sees it's still snowing. The ground is entirely white. Something catches his eye and he does a triple take.

Beneath the biggest tree, is a figure. Blaine dresses in a hurry and then trips over himself to get downstairs and outside.

It's Kurt. He's sitting under the tree and he's wearing Blaine's clothes; one of his jackets, a scarf and some gloves. When he sees Blaine by the door, he waves. Blaine goes back inside to dress for the weather, all the while his heart is thumping in anticipation. It doesn't take long before he's back at the door. He goes outside and joins Kurt beneath the tree. They share a smile and then sit in the snow. It's freezing.

"Aren't you cold?" Blaine asks.

Kurt nods.

"Finn is gone," Blaine tells him next.

"I know."

"You've been to see your dad?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"Then how did you find out?"

"Finn's story is always cut short."

Blaine doesn't understand, but he doesn't ask either. There are so many more questions. He's not sure which to ask first. Finally, he opens his mouth and waits to see what comes.

"Where did you go?"

Kurt frowns, looks down at the snow.

"I wandered," he says. "Everywhere, anywhere. Nowhere. Where did you go?"

"I was right here," Blaine says jaw set. "I was always right here."

"You're mad," Kurt observes.

Sometimes, he thinks he might be.

"You left me," Blaine accuses.

"You didn't find me."

"I tried. I've been all over looking for you."

"Really?" Kurt asks, meeting his eyes again.

Blaine wants to say a multitude of things. He wants to shake Kurt. He wants to scream.

He's been looking forever. Did he think he wouldn't look?

Had he given him the impression that he wouldn't?

Doesn't he know Blaine loves him?

Instead, he nods. Kurt gives him a small smile and laces their gloved fingers together.

"No one's ever looked for me before."

Blaine doesn't say anything.

"I don't want you to hate me. I don't hate you. Not ever."

Blaine wants to tell him he couldn't hate him, but he can't locate the words.

"You're my best friend," Kurt says.

"You're mine, too."

Finally, Kurt smiles. He reaches up and tightens Blaine's scarf. "I love scarves."

Blaine likes scarves well enough. He prefers football, but most of all, he prefers Kurt.

"I want you to be completely honest with me. Tell me everything you're feeling."

Blaine doesn't know where to begin.

Kurt prompts, "How did you feel when you woke up that morning?"

"Lost. Empty. Alone. Scared."

"Were you angry?"

"Mostly I was terrified. Anger came later. But more than that, I just missed you. I needed you."

He cuddles closer.

"Where did you go?" Blaine asks. "Don't just tell me you wandered. Where were you?"

What he really wants to ask is, Was there anyone else?

It's a ridiculous thought, he knows, but the jealousy creeps up inside of him and grasps at his centre until he's filled with it.

"Why would you leave me?" Blaine finds himself asking. He sounds desperate, even to his own ears.

Kurt's face falls and he leans in closer. "I never left you," he says, quietly. "We fell apart, but we can be put back together again." He mumbles then, "Puzzle pieces."

Blaine nods. His eyes are full with tears and Kurt smiles. In the shade of the trees, he presses Blaine back and kisses him until winter fades and dies.

When Blaine opens his eyes, he finds himself warm and safe in the circle of Kurt's arms. Spring springs by in a scurry of love, madness and bliss, kisses and touches and warmth in the fast changing night. They've learnt one another now, without knowing everything.

Mostly, Blaine learns that Kurt looks enchanting in spring fashion.

When spring has long sprung by, he is long back in love and when Kurt's eyes meet his, he feels he must love him, too. Kurt doesn't look at anyone else the way that he looks at Blaine. He's beautiful, tragic, coursing through his veins. He can't, won't and does not wish to rid himself of him.

It's rather like a fairytale.

Once upon a time there was a boy and another boy and they loved one another so completely, so desperately, that once parted, they fell half insane. One doubted and strayed, the other disappeared into a fast world of lights and music and equality. Regret came, followed by anger, sadness, loss and then forgiveness, more love and a promise of fearlessly and forever, for all eternity.

This is not the end.

A world without Finn is a strange one, but not at all unfamiliar. It's inevitable and sometimes Kurt feels as though he had expected it, even though he couldn't have. This world is odd. It's different. He grasps and fights to understand, but comes up empty. It's as if the fish have fallen out of the sea and found their place among the clouds. It is all too aware, too real and familiar and frightening, but Blaine is there with him and that makes it easier.

He wonders if Blaine feels it, too. He thinks he must. It's far too obvious, too big and alarming. Sometimes, he feels as though they're that close to figuring it out, but the memory of everything fades all too quickly and the world spins and life goes on.

It's not so bad.

It's a clammy, lazy night and they lay together, fingers linked on Blaine's bedroom floor. There's something intense in the air. They are still, unmoving, but for the rise and fall of their chests. Blaine knows that Kurt's gaze is trained on the few stars visible from their place on the old carpet. He seems enthralled and Blaine tries to see what he sees, but he can't. He thinks that maybe Kurt can read the stars, that there is a foreign language there that he can't understand, one he doesn't yet know. Some day, he'll learn to see it, too.

Kurt sighs abruptly and says, "What are you thinking?"

Blaine swallows the knot in his throat. "That I love you."

He's given him that much before. It's a risk, he is aware, but he needs to say it, needs him to know, needs to know what it means.

Kurt goes silent again. His fingers remain linked with Blaine's.

"Kurt," Blaine says simply, softly, pleadingly.

Kurt makes a tiny sound and blinks a few times. "Will you take me to my dad tomorrow?"

Blaine nods, deflating.

"Thank you," Kurt says. "Tell me again."

For a split second, he doesn't know what he means and then he does and he considers refusing, but instead, he takes a breath and says it on an exhale.

"I love you."

Kurt squeezes his hand. "Does my silence upset you?"

He thinks and shakes his head. "No." He means it.

"Then I know it's okay," Kurt says. "Will you tell me again tomorrow?"

Blaine could tell him every moment of every day. He nods.

In the morning, Kurt wakes and turns on his side to face Blaine. He blinks lazily, admiring the smooth curves and contours of his face, when there is no worry, no fear or horror, just pleasant dreaming. Blaine feels the burn of his gaze and his eyes flutter open. He smiles instantly, seeing that Kurt is still there and for a moment, Kurt feels instantly wicked for having left him for so long, but he knows somehow that this is how it was to be. He hopes it gets better, that it works.

Kurt feels desire for Blaine, wants to let him closer than ever before, but he feels a pull backwards.

For so long, he has felt as if he was sinking, like the life in him would fade and he would disappear with the forgotten. And then there was Blaine and sometimes, he can't remember life before Blaine and when he does, he shudders and aches and kisses him to keep him there, always there, present, alive, his.

He wants everything, but not now. Not yet.

They're in Blaine's car, driving to Burt's garage, when Blaine pulls over, the need to ask the question far too much to hold in any longer. Kurt looks at him. He doesn't seem surprised, he simply looks. Blaine opens his mouth to speak, to ask, to settle his mind, but he stops, halts, stills, cannot bring himself to ask, because he is terrified of the answer and even worse, he is terrified there won't be an answer. He opens his mouth and he closes it and he shakes his head. He raises his sweating palms back to the steering wheel and gets himself ready to resume driving. A hand reaches out and touches his arm and his body sparks and jolts. Kurt is looking into his eyes, grave and interested.

"Tell me," Kurt whispers.

Blaine swallows the lump in his throat and says, "I love you."

He is given a wide and beautiful grin. Kurt reaches out and touches a hand to Blaine's cheek. His touch is soft, sure and then he turns back around in his seat.

"We'll talk later," he promises, so Blaine starts the car again and they drive in a happy silence to Hummel's Tires and Lube.

Blaine watches from a few steps away as Burt embraces his son, eyes filling with tears. Blaine feels as if he doesn't belong here, like he needs to give them privacy, but just as he considers stepping away, Kurt pulls back from the embrace and turns towards him, smiling. He lifts a hand and beckons Blaine forward, so he goes to him and Burt smiles and they stand together in the cold garage, the scent of oil and dust all around. It isn't so unpleasant.

They stay for dinner and Blaine feels an odd sense of familiarity. He's never been in Kurt's bedroom until today, but he feels as though he has. He's felt this deja vu far too frequently, but he seems to forget soon after. He has no idea how or why it happens and before he can question it, it's gone, lost for good, or for bad.

"You've loved me here," Kurt tells him with a kiss and a smile.

Blaine breathes and feels it, too. He kisses him over and over and the stars appear in the dark of the sky. They barely notice, but the rap on the other side of the door knocks them back into the current bliss of reality. They unwrap themselves from one another, lips swollen and red, eyes lazy and bright and they return, fingers linked to meet Kurt's father and stepmother. When Burt asks that Kurt spend the night, he shakes his head without a thought and says, "I need to be with Blaine."

Burt understands and he hugs his son tight, before freeing him, making him promise not to go away again. Blaine wants to ask the same of him, but he is too frightened. He is waiting for the right second. They leave together, waving and they are happy. It has been a good day.

They arrive back at the Anderson house shortly after and Kurt can feel that the atmosphere is tense. Mr and Mrs Anderson have had a disagreement. The house is empty, the cars gone. There have been no tears, only raised voices and frustration to fill an entire continent. It is a dull and dark feeling that is felt on first entering the house and Blaine frowns and tightens his grip on Kurt's hand as if promising they will never have a life like that together. Kurt gives him a smile and hopes for the future.

They tip-toe up the steps and into the sanctuary of Blaine's bedroom. Blaine clasps the lock shut and switches the light to a dim shade. It is peaceful. Kurt can feel the intensity here, too. He takes a breath and goes to stand too close to Blaine, who swallows visibly and lets out a shaky breath.

"Blaine," Kurt says a little weakly. He wants to be stronger. "Ask me. Tell me. I want you to."

Blaine shakes his head and Kurt can feel the panic.

"Please," Kurt begs.

Blaine pauses and waits and then he breathes out, shoulders falling.

"Say you'll never go again, never leave me, I need you here, I need you with me, it's too much without you, how do I go on? I have to, but I don't want to because I need you. Swear you'll never go, I need this from you, please, Kurt, please, please, please, I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in the world. Promise. Make me a promise. It's all I want."

Kurt can see him falling apart, his words rushed and real and Kurt wants to cry. He is overcome with emotion, He wants to give Blaine everything he wants, but he isn't sure he can. He doesn't know what the future will bring, doesn't know if it is a promise he can keep, but he looks into those copper-penny eyes and he sees the way the gold drips and swirls and he needs to give him everything, wants to, because he is everything to him.

"I'll never leave you," Kurt promises and he means it right then, always. "You aren't going to lose me."

It feels like something he's said before and he thinks it might have been false the first time, even though he hadn't known it, but he swears right then that this time it will be different. They both need it to be.

Blaine seems to slump in relief, but Kurt catches him, swears to himself that he always will. He kisses him; once, twice, a thousand times and he knows that tonight is going to change everything, that this is it He's terrified, scared of the outcome and if he'll ever be enough, but he needs this, wants it, has to let himself give in this time, because it feels real, forever. Blaine feels it, too, Kurt knows that he does and he kisses him back with the knowledge that this is going to mark a change between them.

Something still hangs over him, but he won't address it, not yet.

Blaine touches his waist a little gingerly and Kurt knows it is now or never, so he pushes Blaine back with some force and shows him how he wants him, how much he needs him. Blaine looks flustered for a moment and then nods, wants it as much as Kurt does. He reaches for him and they fall together in a tangle of sheets and clothes and cold breaths.

Cool, pale fingers trace contours and lines and marks and scars and they cling to one another in the air conditioned room. Soft lips press against the jut of shoulder blades and the delicate skin at the neck and it is both too much and not enough. Blaine thinks he can never get enough, Kurt feels as though he'll die before they go any further. Both want to keep going, both are equally terrified and eager.

When Kurt touches him, he feels right. He doesn't dare touch him back, because he's scared he'll shy away. Blaine doesn't know how to proceed, so he allows Kurt to take a grip on the reins and he falls into him, lets himself get lost.

Kurt kisses his way down Blaine's chest and then takes him in his mouth, where he's hard and waiting. He hears the gasp and keeps on going, wanting to hear him, wanting to know he is making him come undone. Blaine's fingers wind and thread through his hair and he knows when he tugs that he needs to stop, or it will all end too quickly. He never wants it to end.

Kurt treks back up Blaine's body, heart hammering harder and harder and he reaches for Blaine's hand. He holds it in his shaking fingers and lowers it to his own body, where he is hard and wanting He's never been touched here before. He wants it to be Blaine, only Blaine, always. Blaine questions him with his eyes, begging to know if he really wants this, if he's sure. Kurt nods frantically. He's shaking, shivering, despite the clamminess building in the room. Blaine touches him then, finally and it's so real, so gentle and careful that he almost breaks, but Blaine holds on, assures him he loves him no matter what. He starts to stroke then, slowly, perfectly and Kurt arches against him, until he's panting and wanting more, everything.

"Please."

He hears his own voice before he even recognises it's his and he wants more more more more more more

more

more more more

more

more

more more more.

"What?" Blaine asks, breathless. "Anything."

"Please."

Blaine gets it, just like he always does and he helps Kurt settle on his stomach and he finds a bottle and coats his fingers and then he lowers his hand and touches Kurt in a way that makes his insides flutter and scream. It's so much, not enough, everything. Blaine keeps going until he's got two fingers inside. Kurt feels as though he is touching his soul. He needs him now.

Blaine knows.

He presses inside him with words of love and reassurance and he presses a hot kiss to the nape of his neck as he presses all the way in and they're joined and it feels like forever.

When Blaine moves against him, he feels more connected than ever and he knows he hasn't lied now, knows that under no circumstances will he ever leave him again. Their breaths and cries join together in an almost comical harmony and they speed up and race and rise until they're rocking, forward, forward, until they still and let go together and it's enough, finally, it's enough.

Blaine kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips and he mouths out the words shakily again.

"Say you won't go."

"I swear," Kurt says and this time he really and truly means it, as opposed to only wanting to mean it. "I promise. Never. Always. Always."

And when Blaine smiles and closes his eyes, Kurt pushes himself up and leans in closer to Blaine's sated body and he whispers the words he's held onto for so long.

"Blaine," he tells him, sounding broken, but never feeling more together. He says it on a sigh, "I love you, too."